


Everything's Alright

by airond (one_hell_of_an_otaku)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Comfort, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, not sure how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2668685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_hell_of_an_otaku/pseuds/airond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray doesn't feel all that great about his body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything's Alright

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda like a venty thing so yeah sorry if it doesn't really seem in character

_It’s not right. I’m not supposed to look like this._

Ray pinched his hips and frowned at whatever skin had found itself between his thumb and index finger. He stared at the slight curve of his hips and brought his eyes up to gaze at the mirror leaning against his closet door. A pair of boxers hung low on his frame along with a shirt Michael let him borrow and a pair of black socks. His hair was sticking up in small tufts in places and his mouth still tasted like gunk from not being able to make it to the bathroom after waking.

_Am I getting curvier?_ Ray lifted the shirt a bit and allowed it to reveal his waist to his eyes. He let his other hand slide down his torso and pushed the cloth up even more. Instead of a bare chest, Ray grimaced at the sight of his breasts. He liked to think of them as a fatal addition to what his body was actually supposed to look like. (Among other additions).

_Aren’t my hands a little small?_ Ray brought his arms away from his body and stared at his fingers, watching the digits bend and wiggle as his brain commanded them like mindless puppets. They weren’t as thick as he’d like them to be, but nobody could really notice, right? What if they did?

Did anyone notice how his body wasn’t as straight as the other guys? What about his voice? God, he hoped it didn’t start to sound a bit higher. Had his face lost its square-ish look? Probably not since his jaw was never that angular, but it sure felt like it.

Ray tensed for a quick moment as he felt a pair of hands wrap around his torso and glanced back up to the mirror. Michael stood behind him with his signature unruly curls and a pair of pajama pants. The Hispanic forgot Michael had spent the night in his apartment.

“You wanna talk about it?” Michael asked as he rested his chin on Ray’s shoulder. Whenever he’d catch the brunet examining his body too closely it meant his dysphoria was soon to take over. Sometimes talking about it could help, but most of the time it only served to delay the feeling by a small amount of time.

“Not really,” Ray sighed. He grabbed onto Michael’s hands and intertwined their fingers, tensing once again when he felt the comparison in the size of their palms.

“Hey, look at me,” Michael ordered, not allowing his voice to go become noisier than a loud whisper. He turned Ray around and separated their hands so he could place them on his shoulders. (Shoulders that Ray thought weren’t broad enough). He waited for Ray’s gaze to meet his own and pressed their foreheads together. “You’re gonna be alright.”

“I know,” Ray frowned. “But it doesn’t feel like it. I know in my head that the world isn’t gonna suddenly fall out of orbit just because I’m a bit different, but it’s like my brain just stops my body from understanding that. And then everything just feels wrong and it’s like a disease with the way I slowly start to believe it.” Ray shut his eyes and allowed his arms to wrap around Michael’s neck, shivering when pale arms wrapped around his back. He could almost feel the iciness that emanated from his skin. “I just don’t feel right anymore.”

Michael made a small hum of acknowledgment, not wanting to interrupt Ray as he spilled out his heart’s contents. Sometimes offering opinions and inserting comments would only serve to make things worse, so Michael never took the risk unless it was absolutely necessary.

“It’s like I’m drowning in fucking sadness or something. I can’t even describe how it feels but goddamn it’s the worst thing ever. And there’s not even anything I can do to stop it.” Ray opened his eyes and Michael bit his lip as he saw chocolate eyes start to well up with tears, never allowing the salty water to leave trails in its wake. “There’s _nothing_ I can do.”

“Well maybe I can try and do things to help,” Michael suggested when Ray stopped talking.

“Like what?”

“Like we can cuddle in bed all day,” Michael shrugged. “And we can sleep all day so you won’t feel like shit. Or I can beat your ass in Halo and you can try and focus on your own screen instead of being a screen looking prick like Caleb.” Michael couldn’t help but notice the small twitch of Ray’s lips. “Or we can battle in Pokémon and you can realize I’m the better trainer. Then you can spend all your time training your stupid ass Snorlax.”

“Lead the way, then,” Ray mumbled as he tried to rid his eyes of excess moisture. “And excuse me for not using fucking Yveltal like you expect me to.”

“It’s called _Pokémon Y_ for a reason,” Michael rolled his eyes. “At least I use my goddamn Xerneas.”

Michael led Ray back to their bed and grabbed their 3DS’ from the nightstand and checked to be sure their respective games were in the slot. After having to search multiple drawers (much to Michael’s dismay and Ray’s slight amusement), they had loaded up both games and started a battle. (Michael still can’t believe Ray had won with his stupid Snorlax and whatever shit Pokémon he decided to use). Ray had laughed it off and switched games as a result of Michael refusing to come to terms with his loss.

After holding Ray in his arms as he played Tetris, Michael eventually fell back to sleep, Ray following closely behind as he realized his boyfriend wasn’t awake anymore.


End file.
